


Contemplation

by Axis2ClusterB



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, navel gazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axis2ClusterB/pseuds/Axis2ClusterB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's not so bad, being with who you didn't think you wanted to be with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contemplation

**Author's Note:**

> This is old fic, set in the early days of SPN and early-ish days of SV.

“Oh, fuck me.” Mike’s moaning as he says it, eyes rolling back in his head and hips pushing up to meet Jensen’s and Jensen’s moving faster, one hand pushing at the back of Mike’s thigh and the other braced against the headboard to get deeper, harder, everything Mike’s asking for.

Jensen’s never had it like this with a guy before. There’s always been all of that alpha male dominance shit, and who’s on top, and who’s fucking who, and being with Mike just circumvents all the shit. Mike loves all of it, is just, ‘Hey, wanna fuck?’ wrapped up in one smooth, neat package that Jensen can’t resist.

“H-harder, Jensen, Jesus, fuck,” Mike grinds out as Jensen bears down on him, even deeper and he’s hitting Mike’s prostate every time. Mike’s tight under him, every muscle stretched taut and just as Jensen’s afraid it’s gone too far, that it’s one of those times that Mike’s pushed him into bypassing ‘just right’ and into ‘too much,’ he feels Mike’s hand between them. He looks down just in time to see Mike wrap shaking fingers around his cock to jack himself. Mike’s ass tightens to just past painful as he comes between them, crying out, loud as he always is and then he’s relaxing, letting Jensen push his body even further back, an impossible angle until Jensen’s deeper in him than he’s ever been in anyone. It’s so damn good, better than anything with Mike spread out and open and boneless, whispering lazy filth that spears through Jensen. It’s Mike that’s controlling it now, even with Jensen balls-deep and pinning him to the bed, and it’s Mike who ends it, whispers, “Fucking _come,_ Jen,” as he does that thing with his hips that Jensen can never resist.

Mike pushes himself up on his elbows and bites Jensen’s collarbone as he comes, hard enough that the makeup girls are going to throw up their hands and turn him orange tomorrow, hard enough that Jared’s going to tease him with a light voice and a big grin even as questions he won’t ask put dark shadows in his eyes. 

Jensen can’t bring himself to care as he collapses on top of Mike, all sweat-slick skin and loose, stretched muscles. “Fuck,” he whispers, almost reverentially, and Mike gives him an appreciative laugh. Jensen pulls enough of himself together to shift, turn the full-bodied sprawl into something else, into holding Mike.

Mike lets him get away with it for about as long as he usually does – about the amount of time that it takes for Jensen to get comfortable – and then he’s pushing, sliding out from under to grab the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand.

“You could just let me,” he starts, but Mike’s already laughing out smoke.

“When I grow tits, I’ll let you cuddle me, Jen,” he says, extending the battered pack. Jensen takes one, lights it with the cheap plastic lighter as Mike settles the ashtray into the slight concave dip of his lower belly. 

“Where would you be if you weren’t here?” Jensen asks. He’s half-expecting Mikey to pop him, but the pot from earlier has made him mellow, and he just shrugs.

“You always ask shit like that when we’ve been fucking,” Mike says, but again, the pot’s changed it from an accusation to a lazy observation. “Honestly? With someone else, maybe Kristin. I just didn’t feel like being alone tonight.”

Jensen had gotten that much from Mike’s voice when he’d called earlier with an offer of pot and beer, forced lightness undercut with something else, lonely and needing. Jensen doesn’t mention that, asks instead, “You fucking Kristen?”

Mike laughs. “Nope, but we’ve been hanging out a lot. She’s good to have around.” Mike eyes him for just a minute, then says, “Where would you be, Jen?” and his voice isn’t like it usually is with Jen. It’s low and warm, something new teasing at the edges.

“Most likely with Chris,” Jensen says, butting his cigarette and returning the ashtray to the nightstand. This time, Mike doesn’t pull away when Jensen puts his arms around him. “Feel like you’re growing tits, Mikey?” he teases, and Mike laughs.

Then he’s quiet for so long that Jensen’s pretty sure he’s asleep, is drowsing himself when Mike suddenly murmurs, “This isn’t so bad.”

Jensen knows he could tease him now and Mikey would let it go, but that would be cruel, so he asks softly, “What’s that, Mike?”

“Being with someone,” Mike starts, and Jensen knows him well enough to recognize his stillness as searching for words.

“Being with someone who isn’t necessarily who you thought you wanted to be with?” Jensen suggests gently, thinking of Jared and Sandy and Tom and Jamie, and Mike nods against his chest.

“You’re not gonna get married on me, are you?” Mike asks, and Jensen laughs.

“Not til you grow tits, Mikey.”

-end-


End file.
